Paris
by Jessica Jewell
Summary: After The Breakup, Harry visits Paris, which was his and Draco's vacation spot, for various reasons. All the while, he can only think of Draco and want what they once had back.


**Title**: Paris  
**Author**: Jessica Jewell  
**Pairings**: Draco/Harry, Draco/UnknownCharacter, Ron/Hermione, Harry/Luna, George/Luna, Neville/Ginny  
**Warnings**: Fluff, Sadness (I don't think it's quite to the 'angst' area), Slash, Over-use of parentheses, Abrupt ending.  
**Notes**: This was inspired by Gotye's _Somebody That I Used To Know_. Honestly, this story is _nothing_ like the song, just an idea that came about by listening to it on repeat for four hours. Another inspiration for this story is my failed relationship, and much of the ideas of love are from what I feel. Also, page breaks symbolize a year has passed by. This story starts with Harry at age 23, ends with him at age 27.

* * *

Perhaps if Hermione was not there, Harry would have begged Draco to take him back, to rethink their relationship, to give him a second chance. But Hermione was there, and Harry couldn't bring himself to degrade himself in front of so many others at the quaint cafe in Wizarding Paris because it would cause Hermione embarrassment. Hermione didn't deserve that. And, if Harry spoke these thoughts outloud, Hermione would tell him that he didn't deserve that, either. That 'Malfoy' (she'd refused to call him Draco since The Breakup) wasn't worth the public humliation.

But he was.

Hermione would never understand that. Hermione had a good, solid relationship. Ron and her were doing well, have been since they'd gotten together after the war (or was it technically _during_ the war?). Now here, six years later, they were engaged and had dragged Harry with them to Paris to scope out their honeymoon spot.

Of course, Harry knew that the reason they'd insisted he'd come was to get away from Draco. Who would have thought that Paris was the exact spot Draco would be? Harry should have known; Draco was as fluent in French as he was in English. If not for the fact he did not have a French accent when he spoke English, many would think that French was his first language. Harry also knew that Draco would sometimes just start speaking in French when he was caught up in the moment of passion, like-

_'No.'_ Harry scolded himself. He was _not_ going to think of that, what once was. Seeing Draco now, some French whore hanging off his arm and every word, made Harry see that Draco was _over_ him. Why wouldn't he be, though? They had been split up for almost a year now. It was completely acceptable to have moved on by now, gotten someone new.

In fact, Hermione kept trying to set Harry up with people she worked with. He kept denying even though he knew Hermione would not stop until Harry accepted at least one proposal. Harry, however, did not want any of these people, with their ordinary names and 'nice' personalities (Hermione always said that every single one of them was 'nice'). Harry wanted Draco, with his eccentric name, his opinionated statements, his Pureblood-better-than-you stance, his lack of emotion, yet complete understanding of everything Harry wanted and needed.

"Harry," Hermione's voice brought him out of his musings. "I'm sorry. Who would have known Malfoy would be here?"

Harry felt like smirking. Hadn't he just thought those words? "I should have. I mean, I knew he loved Paris, but really, who could have known he would be here when we were?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione's voice was quiet, but her eyes told everything - the pity, sorrow, and understanding, all rolled into one. "We should leave."

"No, no," Harry shook his head, "I'm not going to let the fact Draco showed up ruin our lunch. Besides, we were here first and leaving now would upset the waitress, I'm sure."

"Only because then she would have to explain to her boss why Harry Potter walked out of their cafe," Hermione replied, amusement in her eyes.

Harry returned with a chuckle, "Oh, yes. I'd hate to cause her trouble. She's been so kind."

"She's been so _flirty_, you mean," Hermione raised an eyebrow, as if to chastize Harry for not noticing the obvious way the waitress came on to him.

"Yes, well, she's hardly my type. Much too brunettey for my taste."

"Brunettey isn't even a word, Harry," Hermione laughed, smiling widely. "I'll let it slide though, as I do see your point. You seem to keep your love interests to redheads, blondes, and those with black hair."

"Hey! _Everyone_ had a crush on Cho in school. Had nothing to do with her hair color."

"_I_ didn't," Hermione countered, absently stirring her tea, "but seriously Harry. Can't you possibly get back into the game again?"

Harry sighed, sitting back in his chair, eyes darting in Draco's direction. "I can't, 'Mione. I'm not ready. I'm still in love."

Hermione pursed her lips before speaking. "I just think that it might be better to get on with your life. If you don't get someone new into your life, than the only thing you have to occupy your time with is thinking about what once was. As I recall, Malfoy made if very clear that you were an experiment. I hate to say it Harry, but I don't think it was ever love on Malfoy's end."

Harry stared back, eyes wide with shock. "And just how long have you thought this?"

"A while now, I suppose," Hermione replied, worrying her bottom lip, "I mean, he was with you for three years and that is a long time for relationships that don't include marriage. But, when things came down to it, times were rough, where was he? He was emotionally void in public, he didn't put much effort towards getting to know Ron or I, and he certainly didn't seem to want to be involved in any family gatherings. From my point of view, it's like he used your fame to get his name in the good graces again, than left you once all was well on his behalf."

Having heard Hermione, Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to be mad at her, or if he wanted to break down crying. He could understand Hermione's view, accept what she saw and what she thought, but she wasn't _in_ their relationship. Hermione wasn't there when Draco had held him at night because he'd woken up from another nightmare about the war. Hermione wasn't there when Draco let his guard down and openly _laughed_. Hermione wasn't there when he and Draco made love and it was slow, sweet, and perfect. Hermione wasn't there when, after their love making, Draco would pull Harry close and whisper in his ear sweet nothings.

"Hermione," Harry started, "I can't discuss this now. There is so much you didn't see and won't understand. You're much too logical and love has no logic."

Hermione merely nodded and allowed the conversation of Harry's love life to end. This was only temporary, Harry knew, but he still appreciated it. Still, he couldn't wait until they met up with Ron again. Being alone with Hermione was taking its toll on his emotions.

oOo

Okay, so seeing Draco at the cafe had been difficult, but then seeing him at the park, hotel, and restruant were almost nerve breaking. Harry wasn't sure why Draco was at all these places (Harry had chosen them because he knew them from the trip Draco and he had gone on, but he wasn't going to tell Hermione that). A part of Harry thought back to Hermione's words, of how Draco might have used him, and he couldn't help but wonder if Draco just brought _every_one he dated to these same places.

"Mate, just don't look, okay?" Ron said, grabbing Harry's arm and walking, forcing the raven to follow.

"Look at what?" Harry asked, looking over his shoulder at what Ron was pulling him away from.

"Don't!"

It was too late, though. Harry had seen. There was Draco with his French woman in front of _their_ (yes, Harry had dubbed it his and Draco's) fountain. Harry still has a picture of him and Draco in front of that fountain - it's just them standing there, posing, a wide smile on Harry's face and Draco's passive look (but right before the picture restarts itself, Draco looks over to Harry and his features soften a little).

Harry won't ever think of this fountain as his and Draco's anymore, though. Because now it's tainted with the image of Draco and this woman, _kissing_. A full blown, Draco's arms wrapped tightly around her waist and her arms around his neck, every inch of both their bodies pressed together, trying to eat each other's faces off, kiss.

Harry felt his heart breaking all over again, and suddenly his feet are planted firmly. He couldn't move them, and Ron couldn't get him to move either. Harry knew he was pathetic, standing there and staring as Draco moved on with life. Harry knew that Ron and Hermione were both looking at him with pity in their eyes. Harry knew that he _should_ leave, but he couldn't. He felt his whole world crash down on him, folding in on itself like a card house losing it's base card and tumbling down.

A choked sob found its way to his lips, and he brough his hand up to his mouth, covering it as it it would have kept the noise in. It didn't, and Ron's grip on Harry's arm tightened (more reassuring than painful). Draco and the woman broke apart (Harry could only assume it was because they were startled by the noise in the otherwise completely silent courtyard) and Draco turned towards Harry. It all seemed to happen in slow motion to Harry. Draco and he locked eyes - Harry saw Draco's eyes widen slight and the recognition flame in them (of course, who wouldn't recognize Harry these days?). His vision went blurry then as he felt the tears come to his eyes (when had he become such a _girl_?) and he tried to blink them away.

"Harry," Hermione said quietly, but it was filled with pity.

Pity.

That was all Harry received these days - from the Weasley's Hermione, Neville, and now he could see it from Draco (wondering why Harry wasn't over him yet, perhaps). He didn't want pity. He wanted to be left alone. And suddenly, having this odd stare down with Draco, he wanted to be drunk.

Harry ripped his arm from Ron's grasp and turned to Hermione. "Don't pity my love!" He growled out before turning on heel, Apperating away.

oOo

It was Ron that found him, completely wasted, at two in the morning. Harry one knew these facts because Hermione told him after he'd been fed a healthy dose of Hangover Potion.

"I don't pity your love, Harry," she said, moving from where she sat on the bed next to him to stare out his hotel window. "I hardly pity you. Yesterday... yesterday I did pity you. Not because you love, but because you had to see your love loving someone else. It's not the same as pitying your love, I hope you know."

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I wish Malfoy loved you back, I really do-"

"No," Harry shook his head, standing. "no you don't. And don't you dare lie to me, Hermione Granger. You wish, just like Ron, that I _didn't_ love Draco because that would make everything easier. But I do, and that won't change. I won't ever stop loving him."

Hermione turned to him, tears in her eyes. "I know, Harry. I know." She rushed to him, flinging herself into his arms and hugging him. "I'm so so sorry, Harry. I know you love him, and I can't even imagine what this must be like, seeing him with someone else. I-I thought about it last night, imagined w-what would h-happened if Ron r-ran off with someone." Hermione fell into silence because she was crying too hard, and Harry joined her, holding her and crying, too. Because he knew what Hermione meant and he knew that Hermione now understood how he felt, if only a little.

* * *

"You're right, Harry," Luna smiled, leaning against Harry, "Paris really is pretty this time of year. I suppose I never doubted you, though. Do you suppose that French Nargles are different than English ones?"

Harry smiled at the blonde next to him. "I dunno. I think they could be, different locations and all."

"Yes, they could," Luna agreed, pulling away from Harry and walking, forcing the Boy Who Lived to follow. "I'm glad that you asked me to come with you, though I'm sad about the reason."

Harry raised an eyebrow in question. "What do you mean? I asked you 'cause you're my friend-"

"Harry," Luna cut him off, "I know better than that. You asked me because this would have been yours and Draco's fourth anniversary, and he always took you to Paris. I'm not sure why you picked me, perhaps because I look a bit like him, but I'm not complaining. I'm happy to finally have seen Paris."

Harry felt his face heat up. He should have known Luna would be able to read him like an open book. "Look like him, hmm?"

"Of course. Blond hair, pale skin, grey eyes. I could be a female Draco," Luna replied, wondering towards a window display, "This is pretty. I wouldn't want to be a female Draco, of course. Too much nonsense involved in Draco's life. Oh, Harry, look at _that_. But still, perhaps being a female Draco wouldn't be that bad. I could get away with being terribly opinionated and people would simply say, 'oh, don't mind that. It's just Female Draco being Female Draco.' Oh, I simply _must_ buy that. Let's go in, Harry."

Harry laughed, openly and heartily (when was the last time he did that?) at Luna's talking and interupting herself with window shopping. "Alright, what it is?" He followed Luna into the store, the name in French that he couldn't quite understand.

Luna went to the shopkeeper, speaking in broken French. Harry could only assume that she was asking about whatever it was in the window she saw. The shopkeep smiled at her, nodded, and went to the display, grabbing a necklace, moving away to quickly for Harry to make out just what the necklace had on it.

They exchanged some more words as Luna purchased the jewelry. Somewhere in the conversation Luna pointed to Harry, and the shopkeeper looked over, a smile on his face, before turning to Luna and nodding happily.

Harry made a mental note to learn French, and soon.

"This is for you," Luna said, pulling Harry's hand to her and placing the necklace in Harry's open palm. "I think it will help you. It's destiny that I found it, really."

Harry stared at the necklace. It was a small glass orb, but in the centre of the orb was two mist creatures. Upon looking at it closer, Harry saw that it was a dragon protectively curled around a lion. "What-?"

"Odd, isn't it, that the artisan would choose a dragon and a lion? They aren't animal that are typically shown together. In fact, I can't really recall any other art that has them together. More often than not, a lion is usually with a lamb and a dragon is typically alone," Lune looked up at Harry, her big grey eyes shining with knowledge.

Harry clutched the necklace, a smile on his face and water in his eyes. "Thank you, Luna."

oOo

"So this is the infamous Fountain," Luna nodded her approval. "It is beautiful, but it isn't quite you, Harry. This fountain is definitely nothing but Draco."

"What do you mean?"

"It's much to refined and perfect to be part you, too. You're not perfect, Harry. You're hair's always a mess," Luna smiled at him fondly, reaching up to pat his hair, "it's not you. It's Draco."

"Do you always use my first name when I'm not around, Lovegood?" A familiar drawl brough Harry's body to a freeze once more.

"Oh, no," Luna shook her head, turning to face Draco, "I even use it when you are around, Draco."

"I hardly recall giving you permission," Draco cocked an eyebrow up and the woman he was with laughed (she looked to be the same one he was with last time Harry had seen him).

"You did when you and Harry were together," Luna replied, completely unphased, "and I never got a letter or anything stating that you wished to revoke that right when you broke up. Surely a well mannered Malfoy would send at least a letter?"

"Who are your friends, Draco?" the woman asked in English, her accent heavy on the words. The way she said Draco made Harry want to hex her to oblivian. Maybe if he'd had an accent, Draco would have kept him.

"This is Luna Lovegood," Draco replied, then looked to Harry. Harry felt his knees go weak. "And this is Harry Potter."

"Ze 'Arry Potter?" The woman's face lit up, and she smiled warmly at Harry. "Et iz such a pleazure to meet you. I 'ave 'eard so much about you. All good things, I assure you."

Harry supposed her smile should have made him feel welcomes, but all he felt was anger towards her. Anger for her perfect smile, anger for her hanging off of Draco, anger because she was his replacement. "Err, it's nice to meet you, too."

"Well, Harry and I have reservations, so we'd best be off," Luna hooked her arm through Harry's, "it was so wonderful to see you again, Draco. You should write, or perhaps visit."

Harry was thankful that Luna's offer of visiting had stunned Draco long enough for them to get away without having to say any more. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get his mouth to work properly anyway.

"You know, Harry, now that I've seen Draco again, I don't think we look that much alike," Luna said.

"I didn't think you did before," Harry muttered.

"Of course you didn't. You see him differently than the rest of the world," Luna said airily, "tell me, Harry. Discribe me, in your words. Physically only."

"Dirty blond, not quite blond but not brunette, either. Light gray eyes, a soft complexion, pale skin."

"Light gray, hmm?" Luna nodded her approval of his discription. "Now, describe Draco. And don't hold back."

"Draco... Draco's got wonderfully blond hair that so soft to touch,which you wouldn't think with all the gel he uses. Eyes that are silver and constantly hold a smirk in them. Pale skin," Harry paused, feeling the sadness in the pit of his stomach, "Pale skin that glows in the moon lights, making him look... look like being sent from heaven."

"I can understand why you love him. If I saw Draco that way, instead of as a prat, I'd love him, too."

* * *

"So you're engaged?" Harry said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. This had to be the first full conversation Harry had had with Draco since The Breakup two years prior.

"Yes," Draco nodded, not looking at Draco but instead staring out the window of the shop. It was busy at the small jewelry store in Paris, so Harry and Draco were both waiting in line. Harry wouldn't have ever even spoke if Draco hadn't talked to him first.

"I-I'm happy for you," Harry muttered. It was with those words that Draco whipped around, and his eyes seemed filled with the same look he'd had back in his Hogwarts days. A look of anger.

"Are you, Potter?" Draco practiacally spat the words at Harry.

To say the least, Harry was shocked by Draco's behavior. He didn't think he'd sounded mocking. "Yes, I really am. I mean, if you're happy. Not that I don't think you are! I mean, I'm happy for you, so long as you're happy. With her. Together. And happy."

"As elegant as ever with words, aren't you?"

Harry turned red, looking away from Draco. "Are you happy?"

"Of course," Draco replied as if that was the stupidest question he'd ever heard. "Why would I want to marry someone I wasn't happy with?"

Again, Harry felt his heart break. "Oh, umm, that's good. I'm happy you're happy." with that, Harry stepped out of line, placing the braclette he'd intended to buy on a counter and walked out of the store.

He'd gotten only seven steps out the door before Draco's voice stopped him. "Are you really happy for me, Potter? And I want the truth."

Harry turned around, and he was sure that Draco could see the sadness in his eyes. "Of course I am. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. Don't you know that?"

Draco looked honestly confused. "Why would you want that?"

Harry just looked to the sky (probably to try and keep the tears back) and shook his head. "If you have to ask, than you don't deserve to know."

"You're not over me, are you?"

Harry had to smile at that, and looked back at Draco, shaking his head again. "You don't 'get over' love, Draco. Remember, all I want is for you to be happy?"

"I don't... I don't understand, Ha-Potter," Draco replied, looking away.

"I hope you love her, Draco," Harry said, "I really do. You should only marry for love."

* * *

Harry frowned, looking at the newspaper. He could read most of the French now, but some of the words were still getting mixed up in his mind. "French is hard."

"Any lanuage besides your native is hard, Harry," Luna smiled, pecking him on the cheek. "Oh, look, it's Draco's wedding anouncement."

Harry dropped the paper like it was on fire and Luna laughed. "I'm only joking, Harry. It's weird that we haven't read it yet. It should be soon, shouldn't it? He and that woman have been engaged for almost a year now, right?"

"Does it bother you?"

Luna look confused, which was an odd expression to see on her face. "What do you mean?"

"Does it bother you, that we're dating, but you know you're just a fill in," Harry asked. He'd asked Luna to be his girlfriend four month ago after many outing together and Luna had agreed. Though, Luna refused to say they were dating. They never kissed (aside from Luna's pecks on the cheek, but she did that before), never held hands, or did anything couple-y. In fact, they hadn't even told anyone that neither of them was technically single. As far as all their friends knew, Luna and Harry were nothing more than flatmates.

"No," Luna shook her head, "I am not bothered at all. I'm not in love with you, Harry."

"Why'd you agree to date me?"

Luna sighed, looking away from Harry. She looked sad, and Harry almost regreted asking. "I agreed for many reasons, but I think, the main reason I agreed was for the same reason you asked me out. To not be alone, and to have something to focus on besides a love that won't happen."

Feeling his heart tighten at those words, Harry looked down at is cup of tea. "Who do you love, Luna?"

Luna smiled. "George Weasley."

Harry looked up to her so quickly he felt his neck pop. "George?"

"Oh yes. I've always fancied him, you know? I helped him right after Fred died, working at the shop so it wasn't so empty. I think telling him about my mother's death and how I felt helped him come to terms with what happened to Fred. Sometime during that summer, I feel in love."

"Why haven't you told George? Or hinted at it? What are you waiting for?" Harry asked.

Luna gave him a knowing look, one that erriely reminded him of Hermione. "What are _you_ waiting for, Harry?"

"No, we aren't going into this about me. He's _happy_, Luna. Who am I to try and mess with his happiness? Leave it alone," Harry sat back and grabbed his tea, taking a drink.

Luna eyed him for a little bit before standing. "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back for lunch."

oOo

Luna looked at the galleon in her hand. She rubbed it with her thumb, looking up to the fountain. She wanted to make this count.

"Surely you aren't going to throw a galleon into a wishing fountain, Lovegood."

Luna smiled, looking at Draco. "I knew if I waited long enough, I wouldn't even have to make a wish."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What? Am I your wish? Keep wishing, Lovegood, beause it won't ever happen."

"Oh, I would never want you," Luna said truthfully. She didn't mean to be rude, and by the look on Draco's face, she felt she had been. Yet, a part of her couldn't care. "I do, however, want you to listen and answer. I don't know what happened between you and Harry, but you need to fix it. You need to swallow whatever pride you have left, break it off with your French fiance, and ask Harry to take you back."

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because you love him. And you don't love her."

"I don't love anyone," Draco shot back, crossing his arm, "I just happen to like her enough that it wouldn't be a complete annoyance to live the rest of my life with her."

"That's not good enough, Draco," Luna replied, turning her body away from him to look at the fountain, "I don't understand you, but you can't just quit on Harry."

"From what I hear, he's doing fine."

"And just what is it you hear, Draco? Do you hear that he's been single since your break up?" Okay, so Luna knew that was a lie, but it was also mostly truth, "Do you hear him at night when he wakes up from a nightmare, completely afraid, calling out for you to protect him, only to realize you've gone? That you aren't going to protect him and that you aren't coming back? That you were his world, and now he'd so lost and confused that he's just living day to day?"

"That's not my fault! He could have moved _on_!" Draco barked.

"He doesn't want to, Draco," Luna said softly, gently, "That's love, Draco. Pure, untainted love. He reads the paper as best he can everyday - the French one - to find your wedding announcment so he can be one of the first to congradulate you and wish you the best. He hopes that by reading that you are getting married soon, or that you are married, he can finally move on. All of him still knows that an engagement can be broken quickly, it's not all binding, and that give him hope."

"Foolish hope. I broke up with him for a reason."

"Yes, but what reason?" Lune challenged. "I think a part of you still loves him, and that's why you aren't married yet. Are you waiting for him to demand you take him back? That won't happen, Draco. He already tried talking to you. A year ago, when he learned of your engagment. You made it clear then that you were happy, and the last thing Harry wants to do is make you unhappy. He won't try to win you back if he thinks you're happy."

"Why in bloody hell would I want him to try and win me back? He and I are a thing of the past. Now he can move on with his life, untainted, and be a good little hero. He doesn't need me holding him back from that," Draco replied.

Luna frowned, "I see. You think you aren't good enough for him. You know, if you never felt good enough, you should never have chased after him. You never should have courted Harry, made him fall for you. You should have stayed clear."

"I realized that. That's... we broke up. It's done."

"It will never be done," Luna said, rubbing the galleon again. "Not until all is as it should be." She flicked the coin into the water, closing her eyes as she listened to Draco's footsteps fade away.

_'Please, please, please, whomever is listening, make Draco realize he loved Harry.'_

* * *

Watching Luna in her wedding dress twirl around with George was on the top of Harry's 'Things That Bring Me Great Happiness' lits, right next to Hermione doing the same with Ron, Ginny with Neville, and other various friends. Of course, other things were on his list, but those were irrelivant right now.

Harry was glad he convinced Luna to say something to George, because, as it turns out, George was feeling the same way about Luna. George assumed Luna hasn't wanted more than friendship, though, since she never treated him differently than she did anyone else.

"Dance with me?" Hermione asked, offering a hand to Harry and pulling him from his thoughts.

"What about Ron?"

"Who do you think sent me over here?" Hermione smiled, pulling Harry from his chair and onto the dance floor, slow dancing with him. "I can hardly believe they are getting married. It took Ron and I seven years to get there, and Luna and George manage it in eight months."

"Yes, well, neither of them had to build careers first," Harry pointed out, "unlike you and Ron. Besides, everyone's love is different."

"Too true," Hermione replied. They dance in silence for a bit more before a drawl pulled both their attentions.

"May I cut in?"

Hermione looked just as stunned as Harry to see Draco standing their, but slowly both came to their sense. Hermione nodded, stepping back, allowing Draco to whisk Harry away, twirling him towards a different part of the dance floor.

"D-Draco?"

"Hey, Harry," Draco said softly, the smallest of smiles playing with the corners of his lips. "I think we have a lot to discuss."

"What are you doing here? I thought you lived in Paris-"

"I do. I'm allowed to come to England for a friend's wedding, am I not? Luna did invite me," Draco said, 'cause Harry to eye him curiously.

"She's Luna, now?"

"Like I said, we've a lot to discuss. Shall we take this outside?" Draco jerked his head towards the exit.

"Yes, I think a talk would be good."

oOo

Harry sat and listened to Draco. Listened to Draco tell him that he'd broken up with Harry because he felt that Harry deserved better, and also because he was afraid. Afraid of the feelings Harry made him feel, of when Harry said the word 'love,' and of being trapped before he was ready to be trapped. Harry listened as Draco apoligized for hurting Harry, as he explained that he wasn't sure what he felt for Harry, but he knew that it was something real, something deep, something perminante. Harry listened as Draco apoligized for making Harry wait five years for him.

None of that matter to Harry, though. Not once Draco uttered the words, "would you, please, take me back?"

Harry could care less about Draco's reasons for leaving - all that mattered at this moment, was that Draco was back, asking for a second chance. Harry practically tackled Draco, crashing their lips together in a kiss that was far from perfect, but exactly what they needed.

Harry waited five years to have Draco back, he could wait another night to fully hear everything the blond had to tell him. Right now, he just wanted to be held. So when the kiss ended, Harry just hugged Draco, and Draco hugged him back.

"Harry," Draco whispered, causing Harry to turn his face towards him. "You've waited so long for me, and I won't have you wait another minute to hear me say it."

"Say what?"

"Harry James Potter," Draco whispered, bringing his mouth close to Harry's ear. "I love you."

* * *

**Another** **Note**: Hmm... I'm sure you have all the same questions I have; How'd they get together the first time? Just what happened during The Breakup? What was Draco's thought process throughout all this? I have no idea. All you read here is everything I know, too. I didn't think those past situations mattered as much as the current events and knowing that you _can_ be so far in love that it's impossible to even think of being with other people, yeah?


End file.
